


Cancri

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex is too tired, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Homecoming, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mechanic Michael, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-12 14:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: “What’s this?” Michael asks, even as his eyes go down the list, “this is a lot of stuff,” Alex nods, “you sure you want me here this often?”“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alex says.“The door to the bunker?” Michael reads out, “you want me to fix the door to your secret clubhouse?”“Hinges squeak,” Alex says, clicking off the lamp by his bedside.“That’s an easy fix,” Michael mutters, turning out the lamp by his side.A series of loosely connected one shots about things being fixed around the cabin.





	1. Water Pressure is Terrible

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: MALEX; MICHAEL DECIDING THINGS NEED TO BE FIXED IN THE CABIN.

This is strange.

Not bad strange, just strange. Nice strange, if he’s being honest. Max and Isobel’s lack of boundaries has never exactly turned him into a pj kind of guy. But here he is, in a pair of pj pants and a t-shirt as Alex finishes brushing his teeth. When he comes out of the bathroom, his head snaps up and Alex gives him a smile that says he gets it. Michael can’t quite believe that Alex is also here in his pjs. That he can see where his prosthetic and his flesh meet. None of their armor is on. He doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

“Just me,” Alex assures him, coming over to the bed. His limp is more pronounced at home and it twists something in Michael’s guts to see. He hates feeling powerless. “Old cabins and their water pressure—“

“What’s wrong with the water pressure?” He asks, latching onto the only lifeline he has in this.

“It sucks,” Alex says and turns around as he gets up, “where are you going?” He asks.

“Fixing the water pressure,” Michael says, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

It takes five to find the tool collection Alex has. Then he’s knee deep in the project. It takes another five before Alex finds him in the basement. Michael can feel his eyes on him. If he works faster then it’ll be fixed and he can—maybe he can stay for longer. What he doesn’t expect is for Alex to come and peer over his shoulder. Michael turns to find their faces are very close and his mouth goes dry. He knows that look on Alex’s face. And some part of him raises his hackles at it. The defiance streams past the worry.

“Guerin come to bed,” he says. Michael grips the pipe, “the water pressure’s going to be fine.”

“I can fix it,” he starts.

“I know you can,” Alex says, “I know that’s not what this is about,” Michael winces, “this is weird for me too.”

“How?” Michael blurts out before he can stop himself. Alex looks like he just stumbled out of some j crew catalog. Michael feels like he may have sweated through his shirt already.

“You think I do this all the time?” Alex says and lets out a sound of disbelief as Michael shrugs helplessly, “you’re the first guy I’ve done this with. I don’t know what I’m going to be like sleeping next to someone,” fear flashes in his eyes, “but we said—“

“I know, I know,” Michael says. They said they would try and his own panic about this situation made him forget that sleep and Alex probably aren’t great friends anymore, “you’re not going to hurt me,” he says.

“You don’t know that,” Alex corrects. Michael wasn’t expecting things to turn that deep but he knows Alex is right. There’s all kinds of hurt in the world, “come to bed,” Alex repeats.

“I will I just—“ he looks down at the tools, “I hate leaving projects unfinished,” Alex sighs and Michael winces, “I can’t sleep if I do.”

“Okay how do I help?” Alex says. Michael turns to him, surprised, “you said you can’t sleep. The point of this is to sleep, so, how do I help?”

They work together and Alex follows his directions but lets Michael take the lead. When they’re done and make it up the stairs, the water pressure is perfect. Which is great because they need to shower again after being in the basement. It would be hot to shower together but they take turns. When Michael comes out, Alex is the one on the bed. He’s making a list. Michael doesn’t have another set of pjs here and they’re different sizes anyway. When he gets into bed in just his underwear, Alex doesn’t bat an eye. He just finishes his list and hands it to Michael.

“What’s this?” Michael asks, even as his eyes go down the list, “this is a lot of stuff,” Alex nods, “you sure you want me here this often?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Alex says.

“The door to the bunker?” Michael reads out, “you want me to fix the door to your secret clubhouse?”

“Hinges squeak,” Alex says, clicking off the lamp by his bedside.

“That’s an easy fix,” Michael mutters, turning out the lamp by his side. He puts the list nearby. It’s strange laying in a comfortable bed even after desperately trying to show his worth for staying there. He can feel Alex nearby. Michael’s never been a coward but he feels small. “I haven’t slept in a bed like this since I was a teenager,” he admits.

“I spent my first few nights back here on the floor,” Alex says.

“Did you get used to it?”

“Eventually,” Alex shifts, “can I touch you?”

“We said above the waist,” Michael reminds him. Alex snorts in the dark. They turn to each other and Alex cups his shoulder, “what happens when I finish the list?” He can’t bring himself to ask if that means he can’t stay. Its the irrational kid in him that whispers the doubt, not the kind of guy Alex would bring to his bed.

“I make you another one. For as long as you need me to.”

“Shit,” Michael swears when his throat tightens. He’s not going to cry. Alex takes his hand and grips it in between them, “did I fuck this up?”

“No,” Alex assures him, “you didn’t fuck it up.”

Michael shifts closer.

Silently they both try to breathe steadily and focus just on that. Michael can’t say when he drifts off, he swore he wouldn’t, but eventually he wakes up spread out in a bed that can finally accommodate him. Best of all, he wakes up to Alex who has somehow wound up completely on top of him. Half the pillows are flung somewhere else and the covers are bunched around his legs. Michael’s always ran hot. For the first time he doesn’t mind it. Especially not when Alex mumbles something unintelligible and shifts so every inch of him is pressed to Michael.  Michael glances up at the list and decides that of all the things that need fixing, waking up like this isn’t one of them.

He’s earned five extra minutes.


	2. Bed's too big for one person

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: I’d really love a future fic with Michael and Alex. Be it kids, dogs, marriage or on holiday! Just some domestic family fluff please 🙏

Michael is a genius.

He has a letter. Somewhere. He’s brilliant. He also doesn’t know how to fold a fitted sheet. He realizes this when he has it in his hands. His life has been so marked by sleeping bags and camper beds, this hasn’t been much of an issue before. Alex can fold hospital corners and Michael’s pretty sure if he flipped a quarter it would bounce. He’s a genius but the little voice in his head says that these four walls are going to be taken away from him very soon. Somehow, somewhere, but soon.

“Talk to me,” Alex whispers against his curls, his arms tight around him. Michael can hear the sleepiness in his voice but he knows he’s going to stay away for as long as he can.

“I don’t know how to live with someone,” Michael says, “I don’t know how to live like this,” he adds before Alex can remind him he’s never lived with a romantic partner either.

“Like what?” Alex asks.  

“Like,” Michael fumbles for the words, “the last time I was in a house like this it was one of those group homes.”

It feels shameful to admit even though he knows it isn’t. The arm that follows his collar bone moves so that Alex can run his fingers through Michael’s hair. Michael focuses on that and the feel of the muscles in Alex’s bicep against his neck.

“This is about the sheet isn’t it?”

“No,” he says quickly, then hesitates, “not really.”

“You know I don’t care if you can’t fold a fitted sheet, right?” Alex says. Michael shrugs. Alex has learned by now what that shrug means. Especially when it’s not coated with sarcasm, “I don’t care,” he answers his own question.

Growing up how they did wasn’t exactly great for either of them. The silence in the cabin can be unbearable sometimes. Alex knows what’s its like to have a home you cannot be in, but for Michael home is a concept. He doesn’t admit to looking at it in a way Alex never has been able to, but Alex knows. He doesn’t want Michael to be disappointed in having one, but first he needs to get him to believe that he’s got one at all.

“It’s stupid,” Michael says defensively as Alex drags his hand through his curls, pushing away from him, “it’s not like I ever needed one.”

Alex kisses in between his shoulder blades. Michael closes his eyes and tries not to arch into each gentle brush of Alex’s lips against his spine. It’s hard though. When Alex kisses him at the base of his neck and shoulder, he gives up and turns over to face him. Alex in the moonlight is especially beautiful. Or maybe Michael is just used to seeing him in the shadows. Alex straightens his arm under Michaels neck and drags one of Michael’s curls around his fingers. Michael closes his eyes briefly because damn if that isn’t taking his mind off his fitted sheet disappointment.

“It’s not stupid,” Alex says.

“Feels pretty stupid to me,” Michael mutters.

“Seems kind of brave to me,” Alex says. Michael hesitates, “I hate new things, admitting I don’t know them—“ he gently wraps his finger around one of his curls as Michael fakes shock, “ha ha. Asking for help is brave.”

“Coming from someone who hates it,” Michael points out.

“I said it was brave, I didn’t say I was good at it.”

Michael finds himself relaxing a little more as Alex angles toward him. Michael shifts on the pillow, getting more comfortable. This feels like such an adult step. They’ve gotten comfortable as friends, as lovers, as two people in a relationship but this is a big step. Made bigger by everything they’ve gone through. He doesn’t know why it feels easier to tell Alex he’s an alien than it is to tell him he doesn’t know how to fold a fitted sheet, but somehow that is where they’ve wound up.

“You’re still the bravest person I know,” Michael tells him honestly. Alex ducks his head but he doesn’t dismiss the compliment. Michael’s fucking proud of him for it, “you still good living with me?”

He doesn’t want to be the only one whose being checked in on. Living with a guy isn’t something he’s sure Alex ever thought he would have. Not if he stayed in Roswell anyway. But Michael is here in his bed. Isobel’s house warming flowers are on the kitchen table and there’s several six packs in the fridge from Max and Kyle. Alex pushes through each new step with determination that often leaves Michael awestruck. But he’s aware it’s not easy.

“More than good,” Alex says, “feel better?”

“Yeah,” Michael realizes aloud.

It’s odd how it occurs to him in that exact moment how not alone he feels. That someone’s there, that he can just roll over and poke Alex awake. And that Alex can wake him up too. The feeling of  _together_  overwhelms him and curls in his chest like a living thing. This must be what people mean when they talk about home as a person. Michael shifts his hands to decidedly PG territory and gets comfortable just being tangled up in Alex.

“We should get a dog,” he says. Alex snorts softly, “seriously, adopted a dog.”

“Mimi told me I would have a female beagle,” Alex admits.

“Awesome,” Michael says, “she tell you her name?”


	3. TV doesn't work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: "Shhh. Alex is sleeping." Can you use this as a malex prompt? :) thank you!

“Let’s go upstairs, get food—watch tv,” he says, desperate to pry Alex from the hole he’s in.

“Fridge is open, help yourself,” Alex says, “tv doesn’t work.”

Michael sighs and goes upstairs. Alex loses himself in the work he’s doing. It isn’t until his stomach makes it clear that food is a necessity that he braves the ladder. He’s not afraid of the ladder or what’s upstairs, he just doesn’t like climbing it and is moderately concerned at what Michael has managed to cook up. He’s surprised to see how late it is. He locates Michael in the living room, equally lost in his project. Which turns out to be his tv. Michael is fixing some of the wires, hunched over in a way that cannot be good for his neck.

“I’m almost done!” Michael calls.

“I’ll make us food,” Alex says.

By the time he’s done with the burgers, MIchael has plugged the tv back in and has hooked up the Apple TV Alex honestly forgot he had. He tosses the remote to Alex though Alex is sure Michael knows his passwords by now. Alex takes care of the rest as Michael digs into the burger. In this day and age, showing someone your Netflix is as personal as any other piece of technology. Though the classic scifi he likes to watch as he works only makes Michael grin at how many titles have to do with aliens.

“None of that’s accurate,” he says.

“It could be,” Alex argues, “what do you want to watch?”

“Let’s watch the Conjuring,” Michael says immediately, “you like horror?”

Alex nods and sits down next to him. The movie starts up and it’s scary but not terrifying. It’s also hard to be scared with what they’ve lived through. After that, when Michael goes for the remote Alex steals it and flips through until he finds the original Alien movie. Michael scowls and when he looks over, he raises his hands in surrender for their alternating.

“I’m picking next though,” he warns.

Alien is followed by Rogue One, which Alex can’t really complain about. He might be a Star Wars purest but he’s a sucker for a good heist movie and there are worse ways to spend a few hours than watching Riz Ahmed and Diego Luna run around helping to blow up the Death Star.

“This would be better with those laser swords,” Michael remarks. Alex glares, “or those psychics in robe—“

He chucks a pillow at him.

“I know you’ve seen Star Wars,” he says.

“Only because you made me watch them,” Michael retorts.

Michael picks the movie after that and Alex raises his eyebrows at the choice, but he has to admit this might be fair turn around for two movies featuring aliens. Besides the Navy and the Air Force aren’t the same thing. Though he imagines anyone whose been up in a plane in the military has had to suffer through the questions of if the movie is accurate or not.

“So does the Air Force play volleyball?” He asks.

“Just the Navy,” Alex says with a straight face, “they have a monopoly on baby oil.”

Michael chuckles and shakes his head. Rivalries between militaries are well known. Alex might not be proud of the circumstances that led to him joining the Air Force, but he is proud of his service. After several movies though, they are both tired and sprawled out on the couch, watching Tom Cruise singing.

“I heard they had to put him on an apple crate to be taller,” Michael remarks.

“You ever think about trying it?” Alex asks.

Michael thumps him with the pillow.

Michael watches them start to fly and he’s about to ask Alex what he thinks about that when a soft weight drops onto his shoulder. He looks over to see Alex’s coal black hair and is surprised at how fast asleep he is against him. Alex is the kind of guy who rolls himself in his blankets and becomes a human burrito before he can fall asleep. Michael guesses his own body heat does the same thing. Or at the very least, it does an adequate job. Alex shifts his head in his sleep to get a little more comfortable and Michael adjusts his posture to tuck Alex’s head more securely onto his shoulder.

Before long he finds his own eyes are drooping. He may run hot, but Alex is always nice and cool in comparison. Which always makes sleeping more enjoyable. Michael doesn’t have an invitation to stay over and he doesn’t want to assume this is okay, but it’s so nice he can’t help his eyelids drooping as he finds himself listening more to Alex’s steady breathing than the sounds of the firefight going on on the tv. He grabs the remote and switches the TV over to something way better as far as background noise goes and lets himself rest his cheek against the crown of Alex’s head.

He dozes off just as Jack Skellington announces himself as the Pumpkin King.


	4. There are several blown fuses (thanks Max)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: Okay, so this might sound silly but I have this really stupid fear of the dark- I can’t sleep in it, I have to have fairy lights on, because it makes me all anxious and panicky -and I was just wondering if you could write something where Alex is afraid of the dark, please? Maybe from his time at war or maybe from Jesse and his childhood? I just really love your writing and how you answer your prompts and would love to see what you do with this! Thank-you and have a good day/night!!

The world goes pitch black.

Alex’s eyes snap open to inky darkness and his heart leaps into his throat. He forces himself to count his breaths and not let blind panic well up in him. He’s safe, he tells himself, he’s safe. He’s not a kid, he’s not a solider, he’s in his own bed and he’s safe. In the dark the warm weight on top of him wakes up as his fingers dig into his flank. Michael opens his eyes and looks around at the blackness and then swears loudy.

“Fucking Max!” Michael snarls into the dark, “I swear to God he does this on purpose sometimes,” he hangs his head and a moment later he swears again, “I gotta go to the fusebox.”

“I’ll come with you,” Alex says.

Michael presses his lips to his, just barely missing his mouth and landing in the corner before adjusting. A moment later he’s handing Alex his leg. Sight helps but his leg is always in the same spot. Sight helps but even when he’s got his leg on, the fact of the matter is it’s pitch black in the house. He has to fight the urge to arm himself and instead focus on standing up as Michael grabs whatever clothing is around. The consequence of sleeping naked. Alex is a pjs kind of guy most of the time. He hears Michael swear again before he crawls over the bed.

“Okay,” he says, “let’s get to the basement.”

“Phones?”

“It’s Max,” Michael says which is his way of saying they aren’t going to work.

They have no choice but to navigate in the dark. The house is pretty clean. Michael’s lived a life where he has to prioritize space so most everything has a place that he puts it back in. Alex needs to have clean pathways. He can navigate well in his prosthetic but it’s not second nature just yet. Even so, Michael stubs his toes and Alex nearly trips over things. Finally Michael slams his shin into the dining room table and they have to stop for him to grab it and keep from yelling.

“I’m going to kill him,” Michael says into the dark.

“Maybe this isn’t his fault?” Alex offers.

“No, it’s his fault,” Michael says, “there’s no light. Not even from the floodlights which means the generators out too. This is Max. 100%. So I’m going to kill him.”

In the dark Alex rolls his eyes. He knows Michael’s going to do no such thing. Michael took Max’s death harder than anyone. Alex was there for the fallout. But in the dark he doesn’t call Michael out, he just holds onto his shoulder as they continue their track down to the basement. Alex mentally makes a note to keep a flashlight by his bed from now on as Michael gropes around, knocking several things over before he finds the flashlight. He clicks it on and Alex feels like he can breathe again. Michael hands him the flashlight after a moment and locates his toolbox and then they make their way over to the fuse box.

“Are you not a fan of the basement or the dark?” Michael asks.

“The dark,” Alex says.

“There’s a few blown fuses,” Michael sighs, “fucking Max,” he gets out the tools he needs, “how come?”

“How come your brother blew the power? I don’t know.”

“No, how come you’re afraid of the dark,” Michael says.

“I’m not afraid,” Alex shoots back, “I don’t like it. There’s a difference.” Michael looks over at him and Alex sighs, “it makes me feel vulnerable,” he admits.

Understanding flares in Michael’s eyes and Alex glances away. It’s not emotional vulnerability Alex is talking about. All the emotional things are easier in the dark. It’s physical vulnerability. From war, from home, from everything. He hates needing to sleep on some level for the same reason but the dark is especially hateful. Michael’s throat works and Alex shifts the light, nodding back to the fusebox. Instead Michael shifts his weight.

“I never had the dark when I was growing up,” he says, “my room never had curtains or I was in my truck,” he licks his lip, “I think your shed was the first place that I had any darkness.”

Alex ducks his head.

There are so many things he doesn’t think about when it comes to Michael’s upbringing. More and more, Michael will admit them and Alex has to choose between wanting to scream at every adult who failed him and wanting to tell Michael how incredible he is. The details of his past are horrible. But they also, incredibly, make Alex feel less alone in his own horrible past. They never judge each other or try to one up with each other’s trauma. But there’s an understanding that Alex realizes neither thought they would ever find.

“That was the only place I didn’t mind it,” he admits.

“I liked that shed,” Michael says, soft and wistful for a moment before he turns back to the fusebox, “I’m glad I got to keep everything worthwhile.”

It’s dark and they’ve been at this for a long time but Alex still blushes when he realizes Michael is talking about  _him_. It makes the dark not seem like such a bad thing. Michael’s got his hands in electricity so Alex holds his tongue while he finishes working before he tries the fuses and the lights come back on. Michael steps back with a bright, almost childlike grin on his face.

“Suck it, Max,” he says even though his brother can’t hear him.

Alex catches his arm and Michael turns into him. The bright grin falters and then softens as he sees the way that Alex is looking at him. Alex steps closer and gently kisses him, sweet and nostalgic like they are kids again instead of grown men in their own home. Michael’s still managed to be shirtless and his curls are still heavy in Alex’s fingers, he still kisses like everything he is goes into it. It’s easy to pretend. Easy, especially with having the cocoon of safety wrapped around them.

“I’m glad I got to keep the best part of that shed too,” Alex says.


	5. The underwear drawer needs help.

Alex stares at the drawer.

They moved in suddenly and Michael had said that he didn’t have a lot of stuff. And Alex had one dresser, so he said they should share while they figured something out. Alex has a very streamlined wardrobe, even if he’s trying. The seventeen year old kid who bought everything he could is long gone and the soldier who knows terms like go bag and necessities shouts at every purchase. He’s striking a balance. When Alex opens his drawer after a shower, the last thing he expects to see is the explosion of colors.

“You okay?” Michael asks

“I didn’t know you wore underwear,” Alex sputters, “it’s like candy land in here.”

Michael gives a lopsided, smug grin.

“I don’t wear underwear around you,” he corrects. Alex feels heat flood his face, “the bright colors are on sale more. Plus it’s not like anyone’s gonna see them.”

It’s heartbreaking and frustrating in the way that only Michael can be. Alex grabs a pair of his own decidedly more monochromatic underwear and goes about getting dressed. He’s oddly rocked by this turn of events. Not that Michael wears underwear but that there’s some part of self expression he was unaware of. Self expression is a luxury that comes far behind necessity in Michael’s world. Any scrap he can pull, Alex is amazed by. He just never thought there was more that he didn’t know about. But as it turns out, brightly colored underwear is the tip of an iceberg he’s not ready for.

“Gimme,” Michael motions for his shirt and plops down, producing a sewing kit from god knows where and getting to work before handing the shirt back  “there.”

“It’s been five minutes, how the hell—“ Michael shrugs, “thank you,” Alex says.

“No worries,” Michael tells him.

The next time Alex goes shopping, he tells that soldiers voice to shut up and busy something not neutral colored.His underwear stays dark though. Which doesn’t seem to be an issue for Michael who will stand endlessly in front of him, making out and fingering the grey of his waistband in his brightly striped underwear.

Alex has no idea what’s coming for him.

He pulls open the drawer and stops. Stares. Expects them to vanish or combust. But nothing so spectacular happens. Michael leans under his arm and snags them out of the drawer, pulling on the camo print boxer briefs. Alex has a bit of a complicated history with the pattern but, okay, seeing it on Michael might get him over those last few issues. Michael looks around for his jeans like Alex is not supposed to be wrecked at the sight of him in that.

“Hey have you seen my—“

The dresser gets shoved that last quarter inch against the wall as Alex pushes Michael up against it. Michael grips his shoulders, surprised but already pulling him closer and kissing him back. They have somewhere to be but Alex doesn’t really care about that. He doesn’t even close his eyes when he kisses him and he keeps pulling back to see the print against Michael’s skin.

“I guess we’re a fan of these,” Michael says and Alex pauses.

“Huh?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Michael asks, grinning, “we’re always late on stripes mornings. And polka dot mornings.”

“No we’re not,” Alex says automatically even as Michael sucks behind his earlobe. There’s no way that’s correct. He tries to think of an example but all he comes up with are the brightly colored underwear Michael parades around in and how hard it is to keep his hands off him, “that can’t be true.”

“Think about it,” Michael says.

“You’re not making that easy,” Alex gets out as Michael flattens his hand against Alex’s crotch.

“You love a challenge,” Michael says, “harder the better.”

Alex bites his lip trying not to make a noise and tries desperately to picture anything that will help him prove his point. Instead of just thinking about how warm and soft Michael manages to be while also being rock hard and completely wicked. It’s not fair that he manages to be all those things simultaneously and perfectly well. They shouldn’t all coexist like this.  Not in one person. Not in one person who Alex gets to wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night. He’s known the universe is unfair but it’s usually in a very different way.

He lets Michael have this round.

Payback’s a bitch though.

Maybe he can’t sew and maybe it’s still a struggle to figure out his style, but he’s an adult. Adults have credit cards, the internet and new ways to get into trouble. All it takes is a few clicks of a mouse and a scan of his old t-shirt. A few days later they show up. Really, he would be great at running his old job. Especially during June when they have the run off from the Pride parade. He puts them in the drawer and they blend with all his other black stuff as long as he folds them right. Michael doesn’t suspect a thing until he has them on. Then Michael chokes on his own spit.

“Take those off,” Michael says.

“What?” Alex asks with fake innocence.

“You know what! Where did you even get those?” He asks and Alex could mistake the look on his face for being upset but he knows better, “did you order them?”

“The UFO Emporium is light on merchandise,” Alex says with a shrug.

Michael makes a pained noise, but when he comes over Alex stops him.

“We can’t be late.”

“I hate you,” Michael whines and Alex smiles, “I have to sit there with you wearing your custom UFO Emporium Underwear?” Alex shrugs, “fine!” Michael says and grabs the camo print ones, “payback’s not the only bitch here.”

“This is your brother’s rehearsal dinner!” Alex calls after him as Michael gets his suit on.

“Believe me if anyone understands it’s Max,” Michael snaps back, going in the bathroom to get changed.

Alex grins and shakes his head, moving over to grab socks. He doesn’t always wear them, or he needs one so he usually just takes whatever’s lying around. He roots in the drawer and stops when his fingers touch something that’s neither drawer like or sock like. It’s a velvet box. His heart skips and he snatches his hand back, barely grabbing the black socks as he goes. He looks away as Michael comes out of the bathroom, doing up his cufflinks.

“Where’d you get that?” He asks.

“This?” Alex holds up the sock, “other clean one from the hamper,” he lies, “too bad I can’t wear my grey pants but they might see—“

“Serves you right,” Michael says.

Alex grins and pulls down his dark blue suit.

From in the bathroom he hears the drawer open again. He doesn’t know if Michael is checking on the ring box or taking it out, both make his heart pick up. Alex forces himself to calm down and gets dressed the rest of the way, making sure he’s ready for whatever happens.

For Michael, he thinks, he could learn to like surprises.

Just this once.


End file.
